


Count Me Among Thy Saints

by Sinderella (Rainia_Nytewolf1)



Category: Boondock Saints (Movies), World Wrestling Entertainment
Genre: Alternate Universe, Canon-Typical Violence, Character Death, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-06-20
Updated: 2020-06-25
Packaged: 2021-03-04 02:27:24
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,828
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24826036
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rainia_Nytewolf1/pseuds/Sinderella
Summary: Tired of the crime over running the streets, Chris and Eddie are inspired by their faith to cleanse their town of evil. They become a type of folk heroes to the community but Special Agent Dustin Rhodes is closing in on their trail.A retelling of Boondock Saints using wrestlers in place of the original characters. Non wrestling au
Relationships: Chris Benoit/Eddie Guerrero
Kudos: 4





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This fic came about due to a conversation on Tumblr where I was asked if I'd consider writing a longer wrestling fic, perhaps based off a movie or TV series. First movie that popped in my head was Boondock Saints. Originally it was going to be Eddie and Chavo in place of Connor and Murphy, but I chose to turn this into a slash fic. Why? Because I can haha.

Hunter and Shawn watched Sean look around the alley, his gaze darting from each of the three bodies in contemplation. Finally, he looks at his fellow detectives with a grin. "So these guys are beating the shit out of each other, right?"

Hunt resisted the urge to roll his eyes, popping a piece of gum in his mouth and offered one silently to his partner. When he felt Shawn straighten up beside him, he glanced over to where Chief Nash was approaching. A gentleman dressed in a suit and tie follows him, brown eyes taking in the scene before him dispassionately.

"And see that footprint?" Sean tells them, gesturing to the huge boot print on the ass of one of the bodies. "Person who did this had to be fucking huge!" He continues to ramble on about his theory, completely unaware of his chief's presence. "So, that's what happened!"

"Excellent! So we have a huge guy theory and a serial crusher theory," suit guy remarks dryly, clearly unimpressed.

"Who the fuck are you?!"

From the corner of his eye, Hunter saw his partner facepalm and was tempted to do the same. Chief looked both irritated and embarrassed enough so he refrained. Suit guy (he still hadn't said his name, so to Hunter, he's suit guy) flashed his FBI credentials. "That's who the fuck I am," he growled and Hunter felt his opinion of the man rise a little.

"Listen, I've already got the press up my ass on this one," Nash told them, and boy, he's definitely not happy. "These guys are Russian mob, which means Agent Rhodes has jurisdiction."

Dark eyes locked on Sean with a frightening intensity. "Why don't you go get me a coffee."

Waltman looked back and forth between the fed and his chief. "What the fuck?

"Cafe latte, twist of lemon, sweet n low," he finishes, moving past him and pulling on a pair of gloves.

Nash jerked his head in a get out of here gesture at Sean, who walked away muttering to himself.

Agent Rhodes doesn't seem to be paying them any mind, as he begins looking around the alleyway. Hunter shared a brief 'wtf' look with Shawn as the fed puts in a pair of earbuds and promptly loses himself in both the music and the crime scene. 

Nash just shrugs when they look at him questioningly. "Fuck if I know," he mutters, glancing at the agent as he walks past them and down a side alley. 

"Get ballistics down here and tell them they need to get a .45 cal slug out of that wall," Rhodes told them as he came back where the detectives were waiting.

"I've got the best ballistics guy in town," the chief assured him, moving towards a uniformed cop and barking orders.

"They'll need to get another fired through a dumpster," the agent called as he circled the bodies laying on the ground.

One of the uniforms, Mizanan, frowned a little as he picked up a shell casing. "Hey, I uh, can't find the other one."

Dustin looked up from where he was examining a piece of porcelain, glancing at the tops of the buildings speculatively. "Check under the body."

"Oh," Mizanan replied as he moved the body enough to get the casing. "Got it!"

"Agent Rhodes," Cena, another uniform called out. "Just got a complaint about water coming down on the fourth floor."

He bears his teeth in a smile as he looks over towards Hunter and Shawn. "Guess we're going to the fifth, hm?"

Waltman returned with the coffee as they went to board the elevator. "So what, someone dropped a sink on the guys?"

"Not a sink," Rhodes corrects absently, sipping on his coffee as the elevator makes its ascent. "A toilet."

The three detectives share a disbelieving look amongst themselves. "Man, no way," Sean disagrees. "You'd have to be at least Hunter's size to do something like that."

The agent looks over at him as the elevator stops at the fifth floor loft. "Oh really?" He asks as Hunter opens the gate. "I just might want a bagel with my coffee."

As they enter the apartment, it became clear that Rhodes was correct. Someone had ripped the toilet out of the floor and water was currently running non stop. "We'll start the ass kissing with you," the fed remarks, jerking his thumb at Sean.

* * *

Bruised, bloody and sore, Chris leaned against the wall of the hospital. A young kid sat beside him, playing some weird hand slap game with Eddie. Every now and again, he'd reach over and gently swat the kids hand while Eddie pretended he was too fast to be felt. He couldn't help but smile despite himself at his lover's antics. Even beat to shit, the Latino didn't stay down for long.

The sudden opening of a door made everyone look and Chris couldn't stop the sigh of relief at seeing Ric Flair enter. Eddie limped over to Chris's side, half leaning on the bed the Canadian was sitting on. "Thanks for coming, Ric," Eddie told him sincerely, pressing himself against Chris for support.

Ric looked them over with a frown and shook his head slightly. "Jesus, guys, you two ok?"

"We're alive," Chris replied dryly, earning a swat from Eddie. 

"Some FBI agent came by the bar, left this with Charlotte," Ric told them as he pulled a card from his pocket. "Woooo!"

The other people in the hall jumped and looked at Ric in alarm but Chris and Eddie simply examined the card. _Special Agent Dustin Rhodes_ is printed along with two different phone numbers and the FBI crest.

"What are you going to do?" The older man asked in a hushed tone.

"Turn ourselves in," Chris replied with a shrug when Eddie looked at him in surprise. "It was self defense."

"That's what he said," Ric agreed with a nod, making Eddie's curiosity pique.

"How the fuck does he know that, _ese_?" Eddie questioned, looking between Chris and Ric. "We haven't talked to anyone."

Flair shrugged thoughtfully. "Dunno. I asked Char but she said he didn't say. Just wanted her to give it to you."

The lovers shared a confused look, then Eddie helped Chris to his feet. "Listen Ric, we need a favor."

"Of course."

Grabbing the bag they'd stuffed full of the guns and cash they'd lifted off the Russian's bodies, Eddie passed it to Ric. "Hold onto this for us," Chris instructed, throwing an arm over Eddie's shoulders for support. "We'll be by after we get out."

"Not a problem," the older man assured as he lead them outside. "Woooo!"

* * *

"First of all, I'd like to thank whichever one of you dumbasses leaked this to the press," Agent Rhodes said as he glared at the various uniformed cops and detectives gathered inside the precinct. "That's just what we need, the press making these two out to be heroes. They're not, they're simply two men put into extraordinary circumstances.

"We have exactly jack shit on these two except what we've gotten from their neighbors. According to them, they're angels," Rhodes rolled his eyes as he looked the assembled cops, "angels don't kill and we've got two bodies in the morgue who look like they've been serial crushed by some 'huge fucking guy.'"

Waltman made a face as Helmsley and Micheals snickered at him. "Are we considering these guys armed and dangerous?" Cena, one of the uniforms, piped up.

Rhodes half shrugged. "Armed? No. If they had guns, why wouldn't they use them? They're definitely dangerous, though." His attention snapped to another uniform, Mizanan. "Any luck with the hospitals?"

Mizanan shook his head in the negative. "No help at all. They're still jam packed from St. Patty's day, full of drunks."

"Well, guess you guys need to hit the bricks," Rhodes told them, ignoring the grumbles from the assembled officers. "Grunt police works gonna bring this one in."

"Man, these guys are miles away from now," Waltman complained loudly. No one but Rhodes saw Chris and Eddie enter the back of the room. "But if you want to beat your head against the wall, then here's what you're looking for. They're running scared, so anything in blue lights or a uniform is gonna spook em. Have better luck putting a taco on a string and dragging it through the city."

The other officers and detectives chuckled a little.

"You'd probably have better luck with tequila," Chris told them loudly, causing the entire room to stare at him and Eddie.

Eddie laughed, sharing a brief look with his partner. " _Sí_ , he's right, you would."

"Hey, Waltman," Rhodes called, making the detective look at him warily. "Onion bagel, cream cheese."


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The whole flashback scene is derived from the script. If you've never seen the movie, the Connor and Murphy (played by Chris and Eddie respectfully) are fluent in multiple languages, hence why they switch from Latin, Russian, French, Italian, German, and Spanish. 
> 
> I know Rusev is Bulgarian but I made him Russian in this story. Sorry not sorry.
> 
> Dustin Rhodes character (Agent Smecker in the movie) is a closeted gay man. Translations are at the end of the chapter.

Officer Cena showed them to an interrogation room, offering coffee and donuts which were gratefully accepted. Sitting down was a small blessing for Chris, who felt like he'd been hit by a truck. He groaned a little as he stretched his legs out under the table, making Eddie look at him in concern. 

" _Tu beuno, querido_?" Eddie asked quietly, squeezing Chris's thigh under the table. 

" _Dolor por todas partes pero por lo demás bien_ ," he returned, placing his hand over Eddie's and giving a gentle squeeze. " _¿Qué hay de tí?_ "

" _Estoy bien_ ," he returned, smiling a little when Chris eyed him doubtfully. " _Lo prometo_."

The door opened and Cena reentered with the promised coffee and donuts. "It's not the best stuff in the world, but it'll do," he explained a little apologetically, setting the steaming cups on the table.

"Coffee is coffee at this point," Chris told him, grabbing a cup gratefully. 

Cena chuckled ruefully, nodding his agreement. "I hear ya," he remarked, turning as the door opened to admit Agent Rhodes. The fed raised an eyebrow at Cena who promptly made his excuses and left.

"Let me start by assuring the two of you, you're not under arrest," Rhodes told them as he sat on the opposite side of the table. "But this conversation does need to be recorded."

"Excuse me, can we have just a second?," Eddie asked him, holding out a hand to keep him from recording. When Rhodes nodded his ascent, he turned to his lover. " _Quid dicemus de fistulis pecunia_?"

Chris glanced at the fed before answering. " _Secuit et nobius reliquit. Quin etiam ipsos advolvit bum antequam illuc et magistratus."_

The Latino nodded in understanding before looking back at Rhodes. "Alright, we're ready."

The agent looked between them, clearly intrigued. "You're not under oath or anything, so I'd appreciate it if you would just answer some questions." At their nods, he hit the record button. "I'm assuming you met these guys before, huh?"

"We met them last night," Chris agreed, taking a sip of coffee.

"They had some pretty interesting bandages," Rhodes mused aloud, looking between them. "Know anything about that?"

( _ **The Night Before**_ )

They were at their usual hangout, The Four Horseman Pub. The night was winding down, most of the very drunken patrons having left. Mick Foley had just come in, calling for Ric to pass him a beer and Charlotte yelling at him to get it his damn self.

"Listen, fellas, I got some bad news," Ric told them, bracing himself against the bar. "I'm gonna have to close down. The Russian's have been buying up buildings all over town. Including this one. Woooo! And they're not letting me renew my lease."

Chris, Eddie and those that were left all made upset noises.

"Hey, maybe I can talk to my boss, you know?" Mick offered, only to get shut down by everyone.

"Leave the McMahon family out of this," Chris grumbled at him, shoving at his friend playfully. 

"Listen, dad doesn't want anyone to know until the last minute," Charlotte told them, coming up and hugging her father with one arm. 

Ric nodded in agreement. "Exactly. So you guys keep your yaps shut. Ya know what they say, people in glass houses sink ships."

Everyone chuckled and even Charlotte looked amused despite herself. "Dad, I gotta buy you a proverb book or something," she told him, patting his arm and moving away to continue cleaning up. "This mix and match shit has _got_ to go."

Ric looked at them all in confusion. "What?"

"A penny saved is worth two in the bush," Eddie remarked in his best imitation of the older man.

"And don't cross the road, if you can't get out of the kitchen," Chris fired back, causing everyone to laugh and for Ric to just look more confused.

The bell above the door chimed, causing everyone to turn around. A hulking brute of a man flanked by two henchman strolled in like he already owned the place. "I am Alexander Rusev. You will be closing now."

"Not likely," Chris sneered, as he and the rest of the crowd rose to face them.

"I am in no mood," Rusev ground out, pulling his gloves off and flexing his fists threateningly. Pointing at Ric, he demanded, "You! You stay. The rest of you: go."

"Why don't you make like a tree, and get the fuck out of here?" 

Everyone rolled their eyes at Ric's blunder. "Calm down, Ric," Chris told him, turning and grabbing a glass of beer along with a shot and indicating for Eddie to do the same. "I'm sure they're reasonable fellows. Listen guys, he's got to the end of the week. Do you need to be hard asses about it?"

"Sí, have a drink with us," Eddie agreed, holding out the beer invitingly.

Enraged, Rusev slapped the beer from Eddie's hand. "This is no game. If you don't go, we'll make you go."

"You're clearly outnumbered if you're looking for a fight," Chris told him, indicating the rest of the patrons and even Charlotte holding a pool cue. "We're trying to be civil here."

"I make the offers," Rusev hissed, pointing at Chris menacingly.

Mick stepped between Chris and Eddie holding his hands up in a placating gesture. "Listen, we don't want any trouble," he began, but Rusev had clearly had enough. With out hesitation, he reared back and punched him, knocking him to the ground.

" _Eto bylo me slishkom vezhlivo pravada_ ," Chris told them, much to Rusev's obvious surprise.

" _Boyus my ne mozhem etogo otpustit', Aleksandr,"_ Eddie agreed, clinking his shot glass against Chris's before they threw them back together. 

With that, the fight was on. Clenching the empty shot glasses in their fists, they move as one, dropping down and punching the Bulgarian in the quads on either side. When he dropped, they each take on one of the henchman.

Chris has his man down in record time, glancing over where the other patrons are trying to help Eddie. "Leave him alone, he knows what he's doing," he yelled, watching as they all backed away and left Eddie to the other man. 

The tall (English, Chris guessed, judging by the accent as he hurled insults) guy soon had Eddie backed against the wall. He reared back, preparing for a final punch but Eddie was faster. Reaching up, the Latino grabbed two bottles of wine and promptly swung them towards each other with the guys head in the middle. They connected with a thud and he crumpled to the ground in an explosion of glass and wine.

The next morning, after waking up in a tangle of limbs, they'd just pulled on boxers and tossed their robes on when the door crashed open. Rusev and the British henchman storm in, guns drawn. The taller man had a bandage around his head, and Rusev was walking with an obvious limp. 

With a quick movement, Rusev smacked Chris in the head with his gun. "Chris!" Eddie yelled, but English was quick to grab him. 

Grabbing Chris, Rusev dragged him over to the toilet. Forcing the smaller man against it, he promptly pulls out a pair of handcuffs. "Cuff yourself!" He demanded, waving his gun in Chris's face. With no choice but to obey, the Canadian clicked them on. 

"I was going to kill you," Rusev growled lowly, staring at Chris who was looking at him murderously. "But I'm not. I'm going to kill your... friend. I'm going to take him downstairs and shoot him in the head and toss his body in the dumpster." Looking at his watch, he called back to his henchman, "Trash guys come in ten. Let's go."

"It was just a bar fight, you guys are pussies," Eddie yelled as he was pulled roughly to his feet and dragged out.

Chris was barely conscious of the blood running down his face as he listened to the overpowering silence. Animalistic rage tore through him as he began struggling against the toilet, ramming his shoulder into the tank and pulling desperately at the cuffs. The cuffs cut into his wrists, blood coating the metal but he didn't heed the pain as he continued to struggle.

Rusev and English, meanwhile, had Eddie on his knees outside in the alleyway. "Go stand watch," Rusev demanded, watching as English walked some twenty feet away.

Back in their loft, running on adrenaline and rage, Chris pulled the toilet from the floor. Water came gushing out of the pipe but he ignored it as he stepped out onto the fire escape. Looking down, he saw Eddie staring up defiantly at the Russian. With a giant heave, he prayed Eddie kept looking up as he drops the toilet over the edge.

A quick glance to judge his trajectory and then, heedless of how stupid it was to jump from five stories, he launched himself over the rail. 

The toilet lands almost perfectly on Rusev, his gun firing into the dumpster as he collapses dead. English turned at the sound of gunfire, only to have Chris land on him a second later. His gun fires as well, the bullet lodging into a wall. Watching in horror as Chris was flung onto the wall and knocked unconscious, the Latino rose to his feet. Promptly grabbing the intact lid of the toilet tank, he bashed English in the head.

Running over, he checked on an unconscious Chris, breathing a sigh of relief at the strong pulse. Finding an empty bag, he quickly gathered the guns, money and pager off the mafiosos bodies. Pulling his lover up just as Chris began coming back around, they hastily made their exit.

Story finished, Chris and Eddie watch as Rhodes stares at them for several seconds before beginning to chuckle. Clearing his throat to compose himself, Dustin looked between them. "So how is it you two know Russian?"

"Paid attention in school," Chris remarked with a smirk.

"Library," was Eddie's answer.

"What other languages do you know?" The fed asks curiously. "French?"

Blue eyes glittering, Chris looked at Eddie. " _Comment pensez-vous qu'il a compris your cela sans nous parler?_ "

Rhodes sighed a little. "Beautiful."

Smirking, Eddie replied, " _Non ne ho idea. Force qualcuno ha visto e parlo_." 

"What's that?" Dustin asked, curiously.

Eddie chuckled a little. "It's Italian."

" _Nicht in unserer nachbarschaft, mann. Niemand spricht mit der polizei, punkt._ "

Switching to his native Spanish, Eddie grinned at his lover. " _Entonces supongo que es muy, muy bueno_."

Laughing despite himself, Rhodes looked back and forth between the two of them. "What the hell are you guys doing working in a meat packing plant?"

They just laughed at him.

Officer Cena reentered with an apologetic air. "Um, Agent Rhodes, we have a bit of a problem."

"What?"

"The press is everywhere outside, they're just going nuts for these guys. What do you want to do?"

Looking back at Chris and Eddie, Rhodes shrugged. "You're not being charged so it's up to you guys. Do you want to talk to them?"

"Absolutely not," Chris responded immediately, looking at Eddie who nodded his agreement. "Anyway we can stay here?"

Perking up, Cena answered eagerly, "Oh sure, we have an extra holding cell!" At Rhodes' look, he flushed in embarrassment. "They can... Can they stay?"

With a slightly predatory smile, Rhodes glanced at the two men before looking back at Cena. "Well, we'll have to ask your mom, but it's ok with me if your friends sleep over." Rising from the table, he grabbed his coat. "Time to feed the dogs."

Watching them leave, Chris looked over at Eddie. "He seems nice."

"Looking for a date, _ese_?" Eddie teased, earning a smack from his lover which makes them both laugh. 

Rhodes stood next to the police chief as the taller man got the rabid crowd under control. "This is our official statement," he began, the reporters going silent in order to capture his words. "Eddie Guerrero and Chris Benoit are not being charged with a crime. It was a clean cut case of self defense. We thank them for their cooperation and we thank you, the media for your tireless pursuit of the truth."

Carrying a bundle of clothing, Mick Foley managed to squeeze past everyone and into the precinct. "Hey, man, do you know where they're at?" He asks Cena, who happens to be the first officer he sees. "I've got their stuff."

"Oh! Yeah, yeah, come on," Cena agreed, gesturing Mick to follow him and pointing in the direction of the cells. "They're in the open one."

"Oh thank fuck," Chris says the moment Mick enters, making both Eddie and the older man laugh. "I don't think I've ever been happier to see you."

* * *

"This is weird."

Chris moved his arm from over his eyes and looked over at where Eddie was laying on the other bed. "Yeah, well, you really want a bunch of cops to catch us cuddling?"

"Not really, no," Eddie admitted with a sigh, rolling to his side so he could look at his lover. "Doesn't mean I have to like it though."

"I don't like it either," Chris replied, reaching out with one hand and grasping Eddie's when the other man did the same. "I'm so used to you practically being on top of me." Eddie waggled his eyebrows comically, laughing lowly when Chris rolled his eyes with a smile. "You know what I meant."

" _Sí_ , I know. I can't help it if you're always so warm."

"You know something?" Chris asked after a few minutes of comfortable silence.

Sleepy brown eyes met his. " _Qué_?"

" _Quand on sort d'ici, on trouve un endroit et je vais te faire l'amour toute la journée._ "

Biting back a groan, Eddie glared at him playfully. "Of course you say that when I can't take advantage of you," he grumbled with a laugh.

"Like you haven't done it to me," Chris replied, squeezing his lovers hand with a smile. " _Je t'aime, mon amor_."

Eddie returned the squeeze, smiling softly. " _Te querio también_."

Later that evening, they wake simultaneously, sitting up and staring at each other. "Destroy all that which is evil," Chris murmurs, blinking at Eddie.

"So that which is good may flourish," his lover finishes, clearly astounded.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Translations in order
> 
> Tu beuno querido? - you ok darling?
> 
> Dolor por todas partes pero por lo demás bien - sore all over but otherwise ok
> 
> ¿Que hay de tí? - how about you?
> 
> Estoy bien - I'm good
> 
> Lo prometo - I promise
> 
> Quid dicemus de fistulis pecunia - what do we tell him about the guns and money
> 
> Secuit et nobius reliquit. Quin etiam ipsos advolvit bum antequam illuc et magistratus - we just up and left. Some bum must've rolled them before the police got there.
> 
> Eto bylo me slishkom vezhlivo pravada - that wasn't too polite, was it?
> 
> Boyus my ne mozhem etogo otpustit', Aleksandr - I'm afraid we cant let that one go, Alexander.
> 
> Comment pensez-vous qu'il a compris your cela sans nous parler? - How do you think he figured all this out without talking to us?
> 
> Non ne ho idea. Force qualcuno ha visto e parlo - I have no idea, maybe someone saw and talked.
> 
> Nicht in unserer nachbarschaft, mann. Niemand spricht mit der polizei, punkt - Not in our neighborhood man. No one speaks to the police, period.
> 
> Entonces supongo que es muy, muy bueno. - then I guess he's just really, really good.
> 
> Qué - what
> 
> Quand on sort d'ici, on trouve un endroit et je vais te faire l'amour toute la journée - when we get out of here, we're going to find a place and I'm going to make love to you all day.
> 
> Je t'aime, mon amour - I love you, my love
> 
> Te querio también - I love you too

**Author's Note:**

> If you've never seen the movie, the character Ric Flair replaced has Tourette's and normally yells fuck, ass. I replaced it with Flair's trademark woo. Not trying to make fun of people with Tourette's but I wanted to make it more in character for Flair.
> 
> Find me on Tumblr rainianytewolf1


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